Fireworks
by MP119
Summary: Warning: The excessive amounts of fluff in this fic may cause cavities. RHr, oneshot


**Title: **Fireworks

**Author: **Melissa

**Summary:** Just Ron and Hermione fluff. There really is no plot.

**Disclaimer:** Ron and Hermione belong to Ms. Rowling. I'm simply borrowing them for my own amusement.

"_Love is the passion that we feel inside of our hearts that we can't hide. __We pretend to hide it, but it burns us more and more until the pain grows and grows and it never ends." _--Anonymous

* * *

He loved her.

It was as simple and as complicated as that.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened. Perhaps it started in their first year, when he and Harry saved her from the troll on Halloween. Maybe it began to develop in their second year, when she laid Petrified in the hospital wing and he wondered if she would ever wake up. It might have started when he saw her enter the Yule Ball on Krum's arm, looking radiant.

It didn't matter. It had happened and now he was crazy for the girl. Of course, she had no idea. How could she when they spent every spare moment bickering over this, that, and the other thing? He didn't know why he always started a row with her.

Well, maybe he did. She was infuriating sometimes, nagging about one thing or another. Honestly, he had one mother, he didn't need another one. He wondered if she nagged him on purpose to get a rise out of him; she should've known that was dangerous, considering the Weasley temper.

He would never admit it to anyone but he enjoyed their rows. It was always captivating to see Hermione full of passion. After all, that was one of the things he loved about her.

Many a time he had tried to admit his feelings or at the very least, ask her on a date to Hogsmeade. But every time he started to form the words in his brain, they'd get stuck in his throat and he would emit a sort of strangling noise. After which Hermione would look at him with concern and ask him if he wanted a drink of water.

Every failed attempt reminded him that time was running out. Ron could feel it trickling away from him bit by bit.

And now, he truly had his last chance.

It was the night before graduation from Hogwarts. Voldemort had been defeated a week ago. Gryffindor Tower was in the middle of a rowdy party, both in celebration of his defeat and the impending graduation.

Ron took another sip of butterbeer, glancing across the room where Hermione was. She was sitting with her chin in her hand, staring out the window and looking sadder than he'd ever seen her. He saw Dean approach her, ask her a question. She shook her head no and Dean walked away.

He emptied his bottle, laid it aside. He drew in a deep breath, rolled his head from side to side like a boxer prepping for a round.

It was now or never.

* * *

Hermione had always been a loner.

It came with the territory. No siblings, parents who were always working or out at some gala or another. It was no surprise when she began to rely on books for company. She would become part of the story and take on the characters in an attempt to relieve herself of some of her loneliness. Before Hogwarts, she'd never had real friends.

She had accepted the constant ache that came with loneliness, the same way she had accepted her bushy hair. It was part of who she was.

After her arrival at Hogwarts, that had begun to change thanks to Harry and Ron. Mostly, though, thanks to Ron.

Ron was her complete opposite. He was an underachiever to say the least, although he was quite smart. He was impulsive and usually didn't hide how he felt. She, on the other hand, was an overachiever and a perfectionist. She always looked before she leapt and covered her feelings with facts.

It was therefore illogical that she should be attracted to him. But she was.

_Attracted to him? Who are you kidding? You're more than attracted to him; you're head over heels in love with him._

She didn't feel quite as alone when Ron was around. He made her laugh almost as often as he annoyed her. He was always there when she needed him. He was perfectly content to just sit by the fire with her and not require conversation.

Sometimes she couldn't help but get the vibe that he felt the same way. His jealousy sprang up frequently, sometimes infuriating her. There were moments when he'd ask to speak to her in private but only let out a choking sound.

She had decided, after fourth year, to wait. Patience was a virtue, slow and steady wins the race, and all those other clichés became her personal mantras.

But fifth year came and went. Sixth year seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye, as did seventh. And now…

Now it was their last night at Hogwarts and she was going out the same way she came in: alone.

Well, maybe she was exaggerating. After all, she'd always be friends with Ron and Harry, no matter what. She'd also began friendships with Neville, Ginny, and Luna that she was sure could last.

But it still didn't quite fill the emptiness inside.

Idly sipping butterbeer, she saw Ron sitting in an armchair, staring morosely at the fire. He seemed to be deep in thought.

Just then, Dean appeared. "Wanna dance?" He asked, his words slurred.

She wrinkled her nose at the smell of firewhiskey on his breath. "No thanks, Dean. I think I'll go to bed soon."

He shrugged and made his way over to where Lavender was.

She saw Ron get to his feet and wondered if he was heading towards the dormitory.

Wrong. He was headed her way.

* * *

After what seemed like ages, he had finally reached her. He plopped down in the seat next to her, smiling although the butterflies in his stomach had begun to flutter.

"Hey, 'Mione. How's it going?"

She glanced at him and a small sigh escaped her lips. "Okay, I guess."

"Doesn't seem like it."

"I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed."

Panic rose in his throat. "So soon?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm just…." She let the sentence trail off, incomplete.

Ron summoned all this courage. Cowardice could not be afforded right now. He was in Gryffindor for a reason "I need to talk to you…in private."

Hermione appeared a little startled. "OK. Shall we go to your dormitory then?"

Ron nodded as he got up and led the way. He passed Dean and Seamus, both of whom winked cheekily at him as they saw Hermione following him.

"Mate, just put a sock on the doorknob and we'll know not to disturb you!" Seamus yelled out.

Ron felt the tip of his ears burn as he tried not to think of exactly what he'd like to do to Hermione on his bed.

* * *

She tried not to feel nervous as she perched herself on the edge of his bed and he sat beside her. She wondered what he had to discuss in private.

Surely he wasn't going to admit an undying love to her. She tried to bite back a bitter laugh. _This isn't one of your fantasies, Hermione. Don't be a prat._

She waited patiently while Ron collected his thoughts. He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. Then he seemed to gather his composure again.

"Hermione, I-"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by small bangs from outside. Ron looked irritated but relieved all the same as she said, "What was that?"

"Dunno," he said, getting up and walking toward the window. "Oh wow, Hermione, come look at this!"

Someone, in jubilation most likely, had released a load of Filibuster's fireworks. She watched in awe as the sky exploded in multi-colored bangs. Magnificent bursts of red and gold filled the sky. A cluster of magenta and silver formed the words, "Congratulations!"

Hermione leaned on the window-sill, her chin in her hands as she stared at the sky. She felt Ron do the same beside her, their shoulders touching. "It's beautiful," she said dreamily.

"Yeah," Ron said, his voice a bit absent.

"I wish I were a firework." The words were out of her mouth before she'd realized what she'd said.

To her relief, Ron didn't stare at her as if she were from another planet. He just regarded her with curiosity. "Why?"

She thought a moment before answering him, trying to collect her thoughts in a comprehensible manner. "I would like for a few seconds to be the most untouchable, yet most desired thing in the sky. Beautiful, astonishing, and made immortal in the eyes of the people watching below. I would love to be that beautiful, desired, and captivating for a few moments, then disappear into the abyss and only leave a memory of what I was."

Ron was silent for a moment and she hesitantly looked at him. He was staring at the sky, the fireworks reflected in his blue eyes. He was apparently deep in thought and she didn't know if she should say something or not.

He turned his head towards her just as she turned towards him. He could see the subtle flecks of green in her brown eyes-why hadn't he noticed them before? She was looking at him earnestly yet hesitantly, as though afraid of what he might say.

Without thinking, he said "You're amazing."

Hermione blinked. Had she heard him correctly? "What?"

A slight blush crept onto his face and he immediately wanted to deny what he'd just said. _Don't be a prat and finish what you've started._

"I said you're amazing. You've always been the most amazing girl I've ever known. You're the only girl I truly care about."

He swallowed, wondering if he should continue or if he truly was making a fool of himself.

For once in her life, she was speechless. "Ron-"

"None of the other girls have ever mattered. Lavender, Parvati, Susan…they were distractions, my stupid attempts to keep my mind off you. And it never worked. It's you, 'Mione. It's always been you."

He waited. She was silent and to his dismay, she turned away from him. _Now you've done it, you bloody idiot. You've scared her off and now it'll never be the same…_"I understand if you don't feel the same way," he said quietly.

"Shut up for a minute." She turned back to face him and he saw the tears in her eyes. His stomach clenched horribly. "Whenever I saw you with some other girl or whenever we had one of our rows, I told myself to give up. There was no possible way you could feel the same. But a small part of me always had hope. That small part of me cheered whenever you broke up with one of those girls or whenever you came back and apologized for the fight. 'Now he'll come to his senses' I told myself. But you never did. And now…"

She took a step toward him and closed the gap between them. She could feel his warm breath on her face, could count the freckles on his nose. She saw the questioning look in his eyes. Slowly, she rose up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. "I never gave up hope, Ron."

He blinked slowly, for the brief kiss had left a buzzing sound in his ears. "So you feel the same way?"

She smiled. He could be so thick sometimes "Yes."

His arms hesitantly wrapped around her waist and he lowered his head. The kiss was sweet and awkward. She tasted of butterbeer and peppermint and possibilities.

They kept on kissing as the fireworks exploded in the window behind them, lighting up the night sky and disappearing as quickly as they came.

-FIN


End file.
